


Until You Hit the Ground

by victoria_p (musesfool)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Breaking Up & Making Up, Drinking, Dubious Consent, Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-13
Updated: 2005-09-13
Packaged: 2017-12-22 07:51:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/910732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musesfool/pseuds/victoria_p
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For once, he was going to trust Sirius, and let himself fall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Until You Hit the Ground

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to tartanshell, alyndra, and mousapelli for looking this over at various points in time, and to Bethy for helping me hash it out when I got stuck again. I'm just so glad this thing is finally finished, after all this time. Title from Tom McRae.

That last shot of firewhisky was a mistake, Remus thought. His lips were numb. He brought a hand to his face to make sure his nose was still there.

Peter was facedown on the table, James was babbling about Evans's fiery hair and alabaster skin, and Sirius was staring at Remus.

Remus still wasn't used to having all that intensity focused on him, though since the incident with Snape and the Shack, Sirius seemed to stare at him an awful lot.

At first it was out of concern and guilt. It had unnerved him so much that he'd accepted Sirius's apologies far sooner than he'd expected to (not forgiving Sirius seemed impossible; it was just a question of how long it would take to mean it after he'd said it). In the space between righteous anger and Sirius's fervent promises, it was easier to give in, to believe that Sirius hadn't _meant_ to cause any harm, and that he'd never, ever do it again, even though they all knew that there would always be a next time, because that was how Sirius was, and he would never change. Remus wouldn't have wanted him to.

So Remus had said the magic words after a week of Sirius's relentless contrition (possibly the first he'd ever felt in his life, let alone _shown_ ) and life in the sixth-year Gryffindor dorm had returned to some semblance of normalcy.

Except that Sirius continued to stare at him, and that hadn't changed over the summer, nor in the months since they'd been back at school.

And it made Remus's lips, and points south, tingle every time. Even whisky-induced numbness bowed to the force of Sirius's personality and the hungry look in his eyes.

"Let's get out of here," Remus said, amazed he wasn't slurring. He unfolded himself from the chair slowly.

James blinked, owlish behind smudged glasses, and nudged Peter, who grunted and looked up.

"Whassat?" Peter asked.

"We're leaving, Wormtail," Sirius answered, standing and swaying slightly. Peter continued to look up at him, baffled. James thwapped him on the back of the head, and Sirius said, "Get up."

"Oh."

Remus smiled. These were his friends, and these were the best years of their lives. Or so some advert on his Aunt Lucy's telly had once assured him. If these were the best years of their lives, with the shadow of evil growing every day, he didn't want to think about the worst.

He shook his head to clear away gloomy thoughts, and headed for the door, fingers brushing lightly across tables and chairs so he wouldn't stumble.

"Moony?" Sirius asked, grasping his elbow, steadying him far more than the furniture, though Sirius wasn't in any better condition. "You all right?"

"Fucking amazing," he answered. "Fucking top of the world."

Sirius smiled, a slow, wicked curve of full lips that sent a shiver down Remus's spine. "Prongs, you're in charge of Wormtail," he called over his shoulder, steering Remus toward the back of the pub instead of out the door.

"The cloak--" Remus said. The four of them no longer fit under James's Invisibility Cloak, and since last year, he and James had taken to sharing the cloak for nighttime adventures. Sirius and Peter simply transformed; a dog and a rat in the streets of Hogsmeade raised no questions, though Sirius had once been chased by an old witch who'd accused him of digging up her cabbages.

"We'll take the passage behind the gents'," Sirius said.

It was easier to go along with Sirius than to argue. And it was difficult to argue when every nerve and muscle wanted to lean into the body next to him, so Remus said, "Okay."

The passage behind the Hog's Head was in much worse shape than the one into Honeydukes. It gradually sloped downward before a sharp ascent that led to a trap door beneath the equipment shed.

They moved slowly. Remus was having a hard time seeing in the dark, but he was constantly aware of Sirius's presence at his side. Sirius kept his arm around Remus's shoulders, guiding him along. It worked pretty well, until Remus stumbled, his feet tangling with Sirius's. Sirius wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him close.

Remus couldn't breathe. Being so close to Sirius was something he'd fantasized about for almost a year now. Being close to him, being able to run hands over his bare skin, to touch that strong body, feel it pressed to his own -- long, sleek limbs and muscles moving against him, soft, wet mouth his for the taking.

Remus swallowed hard, his breath coming in shallow pants. He was sure Sirius could hear his heart beating, hoped he couldn't feel the way his body was responding.

But Sirius didn't move away.

"Sirius?"

Remus's question was cut off by Sirius's mouth covering his. After a moment of shock that something he'd dreamt of for so long was actually happening, he kissed him back, parting his lips and allowing Sirius's tongue to slide inside, sending a pleasurable shiver down his spine and making his stomach flip in anticipation.

He twined his fingers in the soft, dark hair falling over Sirius's collar and held on for dear life. Sirius slid one leg between his thighs and pressed against his already hard cock, tongue thrusting into Remus's mouth in counterpoint to the rhythm of Remus's hips jerking against him.

Sirius broke the kiss finally, when they were both dizzy from lack of air, but his lips moved over Remus's jaw, his teeth nipped at Remus's earlobe, and moved back to take his mouth again.

This time, Remus was prepared, and he moved his tongue against Sirius's, tasting firewhisky and chips and the underlying sweetness of boyflesh. He slid a hand over Sirius's shoulders and down his back to cup his arse, and continued thrusting against his thigh. Remus thought he might come in his trousers, which would not only be horribly messy, but excruciatingly embarrassing. Then he realized he didn't care, because it felt so good to be this close to Sirius. He desperately wanted to get even closer, started fumbling at the buttons on Sirius's shirt so he could feel bare skin against the pads of his fingers.

"Mmm, Moony," Sirius murmured breathlessly, this time moving his lips down Remus's throat to press kisses in the hollow of his collarbone. "Taste so good."

"You, too," he managed in response. Sirius's shirt was untucked and open now, and Remus skated his hands over Sirius's bare chest, skin soft and hot to his touch. He leaned forward a little to press kisses to the strong column of his throat, thrilled at the way Sirius trembled under his assault.

His fingers felt thick and clumsy as he attempted to undo Sirius's flies, such a simple task made so very complicated by the way Sirius's tongue swirled in his ear, sending shivers of pleasurable anticipation through him.

"I thought," Remus gasped as Sirius licked his jaw, "I thought you liked girls."

"Girls are soft," Sirius answered, "and they smell nice," he nibbled at the sensitive spot beneath Remus's ear, "but they're a lot of trouble." It was Sirius's turn to gasp as Remus's fingers found his cock, touching it tentatively at first, still amazed that Sirius would allow him this liberty, then more confidently as Sirius thrust into his grip. "With boys," Sirius continued, showing some of the digital dexterity for which he was well known, and opening Remus's trousers one-handed, "you can do this." And he moved Remus's hand so they could thrust against each other, no material between them, just hot, aching skin on skin.

"Ah," Remus sighed, barely able to hear Sirius over the thrum of blood and need pounding in his ears. He yanked Sirius's head up for another kiss, desperate for the taste of Sirius's mouth.

"No mystery with boys," Sirius whispered, voice ragged as he moved his mouth down Remus's neck, hands pushing Remus's shirt out of the way so he could kiss his chest. "No worrying if he likes it or not. All very," a gasp, as Remus ghosted his fingers over the cleft of Sirius's arse, "upfront with boys."

"And behind as well," Remus replied, feeling deliciously wicked with his hands squeezing Sirius's arse and Sirius's cock rubbing against his.

Sirius huffed a laugh, his breath warm on Remus's neck, and there was nothing in the world but him and Sirius. And then the world came apart, and there was nothing but heat and pleasure.

Sirius's hips jerked, his whole body quivering, and even through the haze of his own orgasm, Remus felt him come, warm and wet, over their bodies. Then Sirius slumped against him, mouth warm against his neck, mumbling something that might have been _Moony_ , and Remus knew the only thing keeping them upright at the moment was the rough stone wall at his back.

After a few minutes and some softer, gentler kisses, Sirius pulled away and smiled at him, teeth and eyes gleaming in the darkness.

"Wanted to do that for a while," Sirius said, and Remus ducked his head and let his fringe fall in his face to shield himself from the intensity of Sirius's gaze.

"Yeah." There didn't seem to be anything else to say, so they spelled themselves clean, and after another intense kiss, meandered back to the dormitory, hips and shoulders bumping along the way.

Remus pulled on his pajamas and tumbled into bed, still riding the pleasurable buzz of too much firewhisky and having it off with Sirius Black.

***

The next morning, Remus wasn't sure how he should feel, what he should want. On the one hand, he knew he wanted Sirius, wanted more of his kisses, his hands, his cock. On the other, if it had just been a drunken lark for Sirius, then Remus didn't want to want him at all.

As with everything else since Remus had become friends with Sirius, he followed Sirius's lead. Sirius looked at him with heat and secret smiles, touched him just a little too often and a little too long, Sirius's elegant fingers sliding over Remus's thigh underneath the dining table at breakfast or the desk they shared in Arithmancy now that James sat with Lily.

They snuck away while James had Quidditch practice and made out beneath the stands, kissing and touching until Remus thought he would die if he didn't come, and die if he did. Sirius crawled into his bed at night, after the other boys were asleep, and Remus woke up wrapped in his arms, feeling warm and wanted. On Sunday mornings, when Peter slept in and James went flying, they stayed in bed together and tried things that made Remus feel so good he couldn't believe they were legal (and he later learned they weren't). Sometimes, if they were up early enough, Sirius joined him in the shower, and Remus couldn't quite get over how having Sirius touch him was so much better than touching himself.

It was theirs alone -- private, special. Even though Remus wanted to shout it to the world that he was Sirius's, and Sirius was his, he knew how to keep a secret and he knew when one should be kept. So he hugged this one close and let it warm him from the inside, imagining it was a part of Sirius he alone had touched.

There was always a part of him that worried it wouldn't -- couldn't -- last, but he let himself be lulled by Sirius's words and hands and kisses.

For once, he was going to trust Sirius, and let himself fall.

***

"Did you hear about Garret and Willoughby? And we _shower_ with them! Fucking poofs." James said with an exaggerated shudder, though Remus was certain his outrage wasn't feigned. "I _know_ Garret was ogling my bits. Backs to the wall from now on, boys." Peter sniggered in agreement as James continued on in this fashion for a bit.

Remus and Sirius exchanged a glance, and though they both made some joke Remus couldn't remember the second it left his mouth, he knew, suddenly, that they were never going to tell James and Peter, that they were never going to be more than a drunken stumble or a secret shag behind closed curtains and silencing charms, that Sirius's promises of love and forever were only words, and not even worth the air that formed them.

It was as inevitable as the moon, really. In the week that followed, Remus found himself thinking, _This could be the last time Sirius kisses me,_ when they kissed, or _I may never touch Sirius again,_ as he unbuttoned Sirius's shirt and ran his hands over the soft skin and hard muscle of Sirius's chest.

He knew it was the end, though, the day he saw Sirius lead Pamela Browning behind Greenhouse Three. Sirius saw him watching, and made a show of kissing her deeply, sliding one hand up under her jumper while the other tangled in her long brown hair.

That night, Remus slipped between the curtains of Sirius's bed after Peter and James were asleep and stood, transfixed at the sight of Sirius lounging against the pillows, bare-chested and still damp from the shower.

"So," he said, when Sirius said nothing, and wouldn't meet his eyes. "You and Pamela Browning."

"Yeah," Sirius replied. "I really fancy her. Actually, I have for a long while." His voice was high and breathless, and he spoke too quickly. Remus knew he was lying; Sirius had once called Pam Browning a stupid cunt with more hair than wit, and atrocious taste in clothing, to boot.

"I see," Remus said after the silence had stretched too long.

"Look, Remus, we've had a lot of fun, but-- now I've got a girl, like James has."

He forced his voice to remain even. "A lot of fun."

"Yeah. Schoolboy wanking, you know. Why have it off alone when you can do it together? Much better that way." But Sirius still wouldn't look at him, grey eyes staring at a point on the curtain just beyond Remus's left shoulder. "But we're still friends, Moony. Mates. You understand."

"I see," Remus repeated, and he saw very clearly indeed. Never let it be said he didn't know his place in the hierarchy of their little group. He wanted to scream, to throw things, to hurt Sirius the way Sirius was hurting him. Instead, he took a deep breath and said, "Have a good night then."

"You, too," Sirius said with false brightness and a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

Remus withdrew slowly from Sirius's bed, thinking that no matter how often Sirius chose James over him, it still hurt and it always would. He could tell himself he'd accepted it, was used to it, expected it and understood it, even, but it didn't prevent the tightness in his chest that made it hard to breathe, and the desire to curl up in his bed and sob like a baby.

Being eighteen, instead of eight, he didn't, of course. He simply lay there all night, listening to Sirius breathe, and resolved himself to one more thing he'd never have. By the time the sky lightened, he'd managed to come up with thirty-seven reasons it never would have worked out, and had almost convinced himself that Sirius had done him a favor.

Unfortunately, though Remus was a skilled liar, he'd never been very good at lying to himself.

He consoled himself with the fact that Sirius still wanted to be friends. It had been enough before, and Remus was very good at making do with what he had, rather than wishing for anything more.

***

Life, being what it was, went on. Remus acted as if he didn't care what Sirius did or who he did it with, and the longer he acted that way, the more he came to actually believe it. He made discreet inquiries and discovered other blokes who fancied blokes, and who were perfectly happy to kiss and touch and fuck without worrying too much what James Potter thought. And if Remus occasionally imagined Harold Riordan's plain brown hair was the velvet black of the night sky when he threaded his fingers through it, or that Orsinio Jones's thin lips were fuller, redder, as they wrapped around his prick, he ignored it. People thought of the strangest things sometimes during sex, and he was no exception.

Any awkwardness between him and Sirius had either gone unnoticed or was put down to the lingering effects of Sirius's prank on Snape. James was occupied with Lily, and Peter with a new girl every week. Sirius had given up on Pamela Browning when she'd begun voicing sentiments towards Muggle-borns that would have made Sirius's mum proud. Now he was seeing one of Lily's friends, and the two happy couples went to the Three Broomsticks together on the remaining Hogsmeade weekends of their seventh year.

Lily had offered to set Remus up, as well, but he'd declined hastily, and spent his Saturdays with Augustus Poole in the prefects' bathroom.

When they left Hogwarts, Sirius offered to share his flat and Remus, eyeing the closet-sized second bedroom and knowing he had nowhere else to go, said yes. The walls were paper thin, but he was good at silencing charms -- yet another set of defenses erected to keep him safe from the disappointment of living so close to what he wanted, and never being able to have it.

Shockingly, Sirius was discreet -- Remus never stumbled over a girl in the morning, though he sometimes heard Sirius stumble in late (or early, depending on how you looked at it) from a night out. He himself had brought a bloke home once, and while Sirius hadn't said anything, the man, whose name Remus couldn't even remember now, seemed to think he was being used for revenge in the midst of a lovers' spat. Remus hadn't bothered to try and change his mind, because on some level Remus knew he was right; instead, he just stopped having people over.

***

Toward the end of that summer, Peter invited them all to spend a week at the Pettigrew summer cottage by the sea and they all accepted with alacrity. Remus knew, even if Sirius and James hadn't articulated it, that this was the last gasp of their childhood, that this September, instead of taking the train to Hogwarts, James would begin training as a curse-breaker for Gringotts, and Peter would be working in a low-level Ministry job in the Tax and Finance Department. Sirius hadn't decided yet what he wanted to do, besides charm his motorbike to fly, and Remus would go back to the Muggle record shop he'd worked in all summer.

None of them talked at all about the Order of the Phoenix, and the war that was rapidly taking over their world. The sun was too bright and the water too blue to think about it, and they were all young enough to believe they were invincible.

Lily had claimed the master bedroom for herself and James, leaving Peter, Remus and Sirius to draw straws over who would share the room with the twin beds, and who would be stuck on the fold-out sofa. Remus had volunteered early and often to sleep on the sofa bed -- he didn't think he could bear to be in the same room if Sirius started bringing girls home, which seemed likely, even if it hadn’t happened before. Of course, when Sirius drew the short straw, he made Peter switch with him anyway, and the look he gave Remus when Remus tried to convince Peter to switch again was enough to shut them both up.

They spent their evenings in the local Muggle pub, and though Sirius had many opportunities to pull, he seemed more intent on drowning himself in Guinness and shots of whisky to notice.

Remus was dreaming of flying when he was woken by the sound of someone stumbling into the bedroom.

"I need you to touch me, Remus."

Remus opened his eyes to see Sirius swaying over the bed.

"What?"

"Remus," Sirius whined, "I need you to touch me. I need to touch you." He flailed about for a moment, then stroked Remus's hair. "I want to feel you inside me."

Remus raised himself up onto his elbows and blinked. The scent of whisky and cigarettes pouring off Sirius made his eyes water. "You're drunk."

"Yes." Sirius fumbled with the buttons on his shirt before tossing it to the floor, fingers already working at his flies.

"You're going to regret this in the morning," Remus said, keeping his eyes on his hands, which were clenching the sheets so tightly his knuckles were white. "I'm not making you a hangover remedy."

"Not as much as I would regret not telling you--" Sirius shoved his jeans and y-fronts down over lean hips, kicking them off and stumbling forward, onto the bed. Remus quickly drew his legs up to his chest before Sirius fell on them. "I miss you, Moony. I miss _us_."

Remus closed his eyes and swallowed hard before replying. "There is no 'us,' Sirius. There never was an 'us.' There was a lot of schoolboy wanking. That's all." Even now he couldn't keep the bitterness out of his tone when he repeated Sirius's words.

"That was a mistake, I swear." Sirius looked penitent, his eyes wide and his lips turned down. His face was haggard beneath his tan, dark circles marring the perfect skin. He scuttled up the bed to kneel at Remus's side. "Remus, please. Let me touch you." He brushed a hand down Remus's cheek, and Remus gritted his teeth, then gasped as Sirius ran a thumb over his lower lip. He was not going to give into this. It was just Sirius being Sirius. It didn't mean anything had changed. "Every night, I think of you when I wank. I know you can hear me, smell me."

Remus shifted uncomfortably in the narrow bed, every inch of his skin tingling with awareness of Sirius's naked body beside him. "Sirius, please--"

"I just want to make you feel good, Moony. You don't have to do anything."

"Just lie back and think of England?" Remus asked wryly, trying to hang onto his anger, his resolve not to give in when Sirius touched him.

Sirius pushed him back against the headboard. "Just wanna touch you," he whispered, his warm, whisky-scented breath sliding over Remus's ear, making him shiver. "Please don't say no again."

"Sirius--"

"Need you in me. Deep inside, fucking me," Sirius continued, his hands running over the sensitive skin of Remus's chest and stomach.

Heat flared in Remus's veins, need uncurling low in his belly.

"You want me to fuck you?" he asked, all amusement gone, his voice hoarse with desire. He held Sirius captive with his stare alone; he could feel how much Sirius wanted him, and his body responded.

"Please, Remus," Sirius moaned, rubbing against him.

Using sheer strength and the element of surprise, he rolled them over so Sirius was beneath him, all wide eyes and swollen lips, dark hair spilling across the white of his pillow in luxurious wantonness. Sirius arched and bared his neck, compliant, and Remus knew he'd lost the battle. He'd never stopped wanting this, and none of the other men he'd been with since compared.

With a sure hand he reached into the night table drawer, pulling out the small bottle of lube he'd brought out of habit. He grazed Sirius's throat with his teeth and Sirius moaned and squirmed beneath him, flushed and vulnerable and so beautiful he made Remus's heart hurt.

"Roll over," he demanded, not wanting to see the pleasure on Sirius's face as they fucked, only to have it replaced by indifference or shame in the morning. "On your knees."

Sirius complied readily, and Remus caught his breath, leaning forward to lick at the perfect arch of his spine. He ran a gentle hand over the smooth curve of Sirius's arse, then slicked himself and Sirius with lube. Sirius had never needed much preparation, and Remus wasn't interested in making it easy for him anyway.

"You want my cock inside you?" he asked hoarsely, parting Sirius's cheeks to stroke a finger over his hole, which clenched in response as Sirius pushed back against him. "Say it," Remus said, stroking him again.

"I want your cock inside me," Sirius gasped. "Please."

Remus dropped a kiss between his shoulder blades. "Since you ask so nicely..."

He pushed slowly into Sirius's tight hole, his whole body tense with restraint. He wanted to go slow, make it last. He also wanted to thrust hard and mindlessly until he came, pretending this was anybody other than Sirius now that he had him again.

Sirius whimpered and shoved back again. Remus closed his hands over Sirius's hips, trying to keep some measure of control as his own hips jerked forward, drawn into the tight heat of Sirius's body, still the best thing he'd ever felt in his life.

"Moony, oh, God, Moony," Sirius chanted as they moved together.

Remus stilled, buried deep inside him. "My name is Remus," he growled. " _Say it_."

"Remus. Fuck. _Remus._ " Sirius's voice was rough and breathless, and it stole what little control Remus had left. The pace of his thrusts grew faster, harder, more erratic, need making him desperate and rough. He reached around to jack Sirius's cock, hot and hard and slick with sweat and pre-come. He still had enough presence of mind to know that he wanted Sirius to come first; he wanted to know Sirius had come because of him, and he wanted Sirius to know it, as well.

"Come on," he said, his voice low and harsh, "come for me."

Sirius moaned again, body clenching tight around Remus's cock as he came, thick and white over Remus's hand, his body, the old worn sheets on the bed.

Sight, smell, sensation -- it was more than enough to send Remus spiraling over the edge as well, teeth sharp against Sirius's throat, hand clutching convulsively on Sirius's hip as he thrust hard and deep, spilling himself inside Sirius, caught up in a wave of pleasure so intense he thought it might actually kill him, and if it didn't, he wanted to feel it again as soon as humanly possible.

Sirius collapsed beneath him and he let himself rest against the sweat-slick skin for a little while, nuzzling at the hair on the back of Sirius's neck, licking behind his ear. Sirius squirmed and shifted and they ended up face to face, Sirius's eyes wide and dark, his mouth slack and happy as he curled into the hard lines of Remus's body, and fell asleep.

Remus stared down at him for a long while, cataloguing the way his lashes curled outrageously, longer than any girl's, the way his hands curled and twitched and sometimes his left foot kicked out before he settled down again, snuffling softly in some unshareable dream.

Satisfied in ways he couldn't -- wouldn't -- articulate, even to himself, Remus tried not to think about what the morning would bring. The feel of Sirius pressed up against him, and their mingled scents clinging to the sheets, made it impossible for him to be rational, and he knew, come morning, one of them would need to be.

***

Remus woke alone, the spot beside him on the bed cool, though the sheets smelled of Sirius, sex and stale cigarettes, and he found a long black hair on the pillow, so he knew it hadn't been a dream. He made himself somewhat presentable and stumbled out to the kitchen, following the scent of tea and frying bacon.

Peter stood at the stove, orchestrating breakfast, while James cuddled Lily in his lap and Sirius sat with his chair tipped back on two legs. He hadn't bothered to cover the bite mark Remus had left at the base of his throat.

"Aurelia Resnick? She's got legs up to her tits, yeah?" Sirius was saying.

Lily was the only one who'd noticed Remus's entrance, and she glanced at him, concern clear in her eyes. He shrugged one shoulder ruefully, lips twisted in a tight smile.

"Aurelia is a very sweet girl," Lily said, chin raised as if challenging them to deny it.

"With very nice tits." This remark earned James a light smack to the back of his head from Lily.

"I'd shag her," Peter said, putting a platter of fluffy scrambled eggs on the table.

"You'd shag anything in a skirt," Sirius replied shortly.

"Oi! As if you're any different."

"He's got you there," Remus said dryly, reaching for the teapot and filling his mug with tea. Sirius shot him an indecipherable look -- it might have been angry, or hurt, or some combination of the two. But Remus was coming to recognize that he was no longer any good at reading Sirius, if he ever had been.

James and Lily's laughter followed him as walked out onto the porch. It was a glorious morning, the breeze fresh with the scent of salt, the sky a bright robin's egg blue he only ever noticed in the summer -- it seemed to go on forever, curving out to the horizon where it met the sparkling blue-green of the sea. He heard the door swing open and shut behind him, but he still started at the touch of Sirius's hands, warm and -- of all things -- gentle on the nape of his neck.

"It doesn't mean anything," Sirius said.

Remus didn't turn. He forced himself to unclench his hand from around the mug. "So I gathered." Sirius's fingers were an unwelcome distraction, sliding down to curl under the collar of his t-shirt to tap out a secret rhythm on his clavicle. "I suppose I should apologize for last night. You were very drunk and I--"

Sirius's hand tightened on his shoulder. "Stop it. That's not what I meant and you know it." Sirius's voice was low and angry, his lips far too close to Remus's ear.

"I don't know it, Sirius. I don't know anything. A lot of schoolboy wanking, remember?"

"You're such a fucking swot sometimes."

"And you're a right bastard." Remus's laugh was edged with bitterness. "What's your point?"

"If I go out with this Angelina bird--"

"Aurelia."

"Whatever." Sirius fluttered one long-fingered hand dismissively. "If I go out with her, James won't notice what else I do. Since Lily moved in with him, he never comes over anymore anyway."

Remus drew a shaky breath. "I--"

"I meant what I said last night." Now Sirius's voice was a seductive purr, sending a shiver down Remus's spine and a blush blooming under his skin.

"You said a lot of things last night," he replied hoarsely, remembering.

"And I meant all of them." Sirius leaned in, brushed his lips against Remus's temple, the arch of his cheek. "What we do is nobody's business. And if taking Lily's friends out once in a while keeps James from sticking his nose into our business..."

Remus swallowed hard, but he knew after last night there was only one answer he could give, as much as he hated himself for it, as much as he feared he'd end up hating Sirius for it, as well. He turned his head just enough to capture Sirius's lips in a fleeting kiss, the merest brush of lips that was more the hope of a promise than a promise itself.

Sirius smiled, grey eyes flashing and lips wet from tea and Remus's kiss, and once again -- this time against his better judgment -- Remus let himself fall.

end


End file.
